


(As Long as I'm a Sailor) On the Sea

by GeeGollyWiz13



Series: Regency One-Shots [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Regency, Derek is a Pirate, M/M, Stiles is an annoying jailor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8822707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeGollyWiz13/pseuds/GeeGollyWiz13
Summary: The Dread Pirate Derek has finally been captured, and brought ashore in the Port of Beacon Hills. Stiles, the son of the local Sheriff, is tasked in watching over him. He is annoying, talkative, and unnaturally pretty.
Derek almost wishes he was able to go down with his ship.... Almost.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kawaiicoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/gifts).



Derek could not help but growl at the guards as they carried him down off the H.M.S Starlight. He felt ragged, beaten, bruised, and bloody. His ship, the Primum Dominator, had gone down hard. They'd caught up with him off the coast of Beacon Hill’s, after having raided a particularly wealthy merchant ship belonging to the Argent Trading Charter. He and his crew had been pleased with the amount of silver and other fine metals and jewels that were aboard.

But, as his luck would have it, the Royal Navy of Beacon Hills had found him, in the middle of luncheon in his cabin. The crew either dead or tied up, he surrendered, allowing him and the rest of his crew to be captured. The weathered looks on their faces begged him not to fight, so he didn’t. Although every fiber in his being screamed at him to fight, he resisted. 

“Welcome ashore!” A bright eyed gentleman in Naval uniform saluted as the guards walked past, his off kilter jaw making his smile wiry and sincere. 

Derek wanted to push him right off of the walk and into the sea.

“General McCall, please inform the Sheriff that we have captured the Dread Pirate Derek and known associates. We have him secure, but we should get him into captivity as soon as possible.” The one guard spoke up, nodding his head. 

“Aye, Admiral. Right away!” McCall went off, slightly running as Derek and his crew were unloaded onto the well built boardwalk. 

The Royal crew begin to unload the ship, busy, but not busy enough where they did not bother Derek. While his crew was left mostly undisturbed, Derek was spit at, kicked, and cursed. He took it all with pride, smiling, but underneath, it hurt only slightly. His pride was wounded. He felt like a dog who had been caught killing a prize hen. 

Derek was upset, no doubt. He had not ever been even close to caught before. He'd raided thousands of cities, sunk hundreds of other ships, but it was the tiny port town of Beacon Hills that took him down? He felt petty. He felt betrayed. His crew had done all they could, they’d fought well, had been brave. But he had failed them as a captain. He’d allowed them to be caught, and now they would surely hang for it. He, in his opinion, was the only one who deserved the noose. 

McCall returned with a large force of men, and they quickly escorted him and his men to a large jailing building. While they went through the streets, people stared. Children in wide eyed wonder, women with terrified disgust, and men with blind hatred. Derek, for a moment, wondered how many of their lives he had made worse. How many of them lost something to him?

“Come along, pirate.” One of the men spit, and tugged on the rope around Derek's hands. 

The Sheriff was standing on the steps of the building as they approached, and he looked quite pleased. He looked clean in his uniform, face clean and not at all wiry as Derek’s own beard. He stood tall, stood proud. Derek envied the man for that. He even respected him for that. If Derek would have even stood in that position, he would probably look that way too. 

“Dread Pirate Derek Hale. I have to say that I am happy to see you in binds. I have heard of your prowess in battle, and I am glad that I can relieve my men of the burden of fighting you. I am also glad that I can report to the King that one of the menaces of the sea have been caught and sits rotting in my jail.” Sheriff Stilinski preened, and Derek hung his head. 

“You have been arrested on many counts of piracy, murder, and other heinous crimes. I need not give you a trial to know that you are guilty of all. However, his Majesty, the King, requires of my station that I give you a trial to plead your case. You will sit in my jail for a fortnight, and then be tried. If found guilty, you will hang by the neck until dead. Do you have anything to say?” The Sheriff walked closer, and Derek could smell the scent of the soap the man used. 

“Hang me now.” Derek replied, and looked away. The Sheriff only laughed, and motioned for him to be brought into the building. 

He watched as his crew were put into their cells, hastily and uncared for. The one young man, Taylor, a fine fighter, was injured, and Derek knew that they would let him die in that cell. He was placed in his cell last, shoved in and the door quickly shut. He growled, but did not approach the bars. He knew when he had lost the battle. 

“Captain, sir! Until the end!” Came a cry, and Derek hung his head. It was his first mate, Gregory, unwounded but for his pride. He’d been with him since Derek had started plundering. It was heartbreaking to know that his friend, his first mate, would suffer with him so willingly.

“Aye, Greg. Until the end.” Derek replied, his voice hoarse. 

A sharp whistle sounded, and a few soldiers entered the block. They placed themselves outside of each cell door, but far enough away that they would not be touched if anyone reached their arms out. 

“Well, well. I could not believe it when my father said it.” A light voice came, with it footsteps of stiff boots. They walked slowly down the block, stopping every now and then. But the voice didn’t speak again, just walked a few steps every few seconds. That is, until Derek saw him. 

The man was slight of build, but not unmuscular. He looked well put together in his regiments, the stark blood red of them bright to Derek’s eyes. He had pale skin, marked with beauty spots, even so much that Derek could see them wandering down, hiding underneath the man’s cravat. 

“Dread Pirate Derek Hale. I would say it is a pleasure, but…” the man trailed off. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am General Stiles Stilinski, the Head Jailor. I am in charge of all that goes on in this part of the building. If you put a shoulder out of line, I will put it back. If you defy me, you will pay for it. Am I understood?” General Stiles asked, and Derek spit the ground. 

How dare some dandy dressed like a guard speak to him in such a way?

“Ah. I see. Is there anything your men require? Food? Drinks? Women?” Stiles joked, and Derek turned his face away. But then, he felt a strong set of fingers wrap around his jaw, and pull his face forward. Stiles had reached through the bars, and pulled Derek’s face close to his. 

“You do not disrespect me in my own jail, Hale. I am in charge. I am life and death, do you understand? Or am I speaking too quickly for you, pirate?”

Derek wrenched his jaw of Stiles’ grip, and pushed away from the bars. He sat on his cot, looking away from the bars. He heard Stiles walk away, and then stop. 

“Get this man a doctor. I don’t want him bleeding all over my cell.” Stiles spoke, and he heard Taylor gasping out words of thanks and whimpering. 

Derek tried to push it out of his mind, and get some rest.

_______________________

The night passed in a blur, full of nightmares of sinking ships and firing muskets, the clash of swords. He woke in a sweat, gasping in the dark. All around him, he could hear the labored breathing of his men, all asleep. He stood up, and relieved himself quickly. He could then hear the shuffle of guards, quiet movements of men on night watch. 

He sat back down on his cot, frowning. It wasn't chilly, but he somehow felt cold and exposed in the cell. He didn’t belong here. He belonged on the open sea, the salty spray on his face, the ship under his command. Not rotting away due to a dumb mistake and some overly vivacious sailors. 

“Good morning, Dread Pirate Hale.” came a laughing voice. He looked over, and saw young Stiles, only half dressed in his finery, chewing a slice of apple. His coat was missing, and his undershirt exposed, Derek could plainly see the muscle hidden underneath. 

“General…” Derek hissed, and did his best to look menacing. 

“Did you sleep well? Should I have had more blankets sent over?” Stiles teased, and Derek could feel his fists clenching. 

“I slept fine.”

“No missing the lull of the sea, Hale?” Stiles asked, and Derek watched as he licked the apple juice off of his fingers. 

“What do you know about it?” Derek asked, standing from his cot. 

“You would be surprised what I know. For example, I know that you were once from a very influential family. It is too bad what happened, you know. But to turn to piracy? Now, that is a dear shame.” Stiles frowned, and Derek stepped up to the bars.

“You will not talk about my family.” Derek growled, and Stiles smirked at him. 

“My apologies. Now, today, I will begin to try your men, Hale. One by one, they will be tried for piracy. And I have to ask, would you rather them hung, or put in the stocks to rot?” 

Derek reached past the bars to try and grab at Stiles, but he only just barely felt the linen of the shirt. Stiles smiled at him, and stepped forward, grabbing Derek’s hand in his own. 

“Now, now, Derek. Play nice. I only asked you a question. Unless of course, you'd like to go first…” Stiles smiled, and pulled Derek against the bars hard. 

“Fuck you.” Derek spat out, and Stiles chuckled. 

“Well, if you insist… But I should have you know, pirate, that I am not usually on bottom.” 

Derek would have stepped back if he could. He heard some of the other guards chuckling. What? Derek flushed, and looked down at where Stiles still had a hold on him. He almost couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Sure, men and women propositioned him all the time when he came ashore, but never before had a man of the law. 

“I…I..” Derek stammered, and Stiles let go of his hand. 

“Remember, Hale, I am the law here. What I say goes. So, do try and get some rest.”

Derek watched as Stiles walked away, his men smiling him out of the block. He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. 

General Stilinski was a strange man. He was…. Derek had to admit he was pretty. He almost looked like half a maiden, if he was honest. He was both hard lines, and soft features. He was strict, yet sultry. 

Derek had never met a man like him. 

As the day went on, Derek did not hear any of his men being taken out of their cells like he expected. He heard them softly conversing, missing the sea. He called to a few of them, just to hear their voices. Taylor was unresponsive, but from what the men said, he had been seen to quickly, and might recover from his wounds. 

At around dinner, Derek was standing against the wall, looking out as far as he could down the block, when guards entered. 

“Alright, ladies. Supper. Eat up while you can.” 

“Lahey, make sure the wounded one is okay. Scott, help him.” came Stiles’ voice. 

“Now, gentlemen. Tomorrow will be your trials. You will stand in front of me and my judge, and your fate will be decided. So, get your rest.” Stiles laughed. 

“Hungry, Hale?” 

Derek nodded, and Stiles slid a bowl of cold meats and gruel in. It was accompanied by a cup of mead, and Derek tried his best not to scarf it down as quickly as possible. He was aware he was moaning, Stiles watching him eat every last scrap. 

“Tomorrow, Pirate, will decide your fate.” 

________________________

As Captain, Derek was the first to be tried. He was led out of his cell early morning. As he passed, each of his men saluted, besides Taylor, still unconscious. He nodded to each of them, a silent thanks for all the years he had with them. 

“Dread Pirate Derek Hale. Do you know why you are here?” The judge’s voice boomed over the room. He looked around, at all the well dressed ladies and gentleman. They were here to watch him condemned to death. They were here to watch him die.

“I…I am a pirate.” 

“Very good, young man.” The judge sneered, and the court laughed. He turned to look at Stiles, who looked the roughest he had seen him. He was disheveled, his wig not on correctly, and his clothes a little rumpled. As though he had a rough night. 

“And, do you know what that means?” 

“I am a criminal.” Derek replied. The judge tutted, and shook his head. 

“It is worse than that. You, Derek Hale, Dread Pirate and thorn in the side of England, you are a murderer, a thief. You take what you want because you can. The sentence for such things are death.” 

The court went into an uproar, screaming obscenities at him, laughing, and cheering. 

“However, quiet! However, Hale. The court has decided to not put you to death. Nor the rest of your crew.”

“What?” Derek’s head snapped up. He looked at the judge in shock, who looked at him cruelly. 

“We have decided that death would have been too quick for you. You and your men will serve out a sentence to work in the mines until you drop dead.” The judge said. 

“Sir…I…” Derek began, but the judge silenced him.

“You will be presided over by General Stiles Stilinski. You will report to him every morning, and if you fail to do so, the men of Beacon Hills military will kill you on sight. Do you understand?” 

“Sir… “ Derek looked over at Stiles, who was smiling brightly. He felt something pull in his chest, a desire, a longing. Stiles looked almost pleased with himself, and a little smug.   
“Sir… Please hang me!”

_____________________________

“Ahh, Derek Hale. Thank you for reporting.” General Stiles smirked as Derek, covered in soot and dirt waked into his office. “How are the mines treating you?” 

Derek looked up at Stiles’ face, and then down to the hickeys only half covered by his cravat. He could still feel the slight pain of the rocks as Stiles only the night before had pressed him up against the mine wall, kissing him ruthlessly. Derek smiled. 

“They’re not bad, General. I think I like them just as well as sailing, sir.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Stiles replied. “Happy indeed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my name is Gee, and I have a problem. I fucking suck, and I post shit anyway. Why? I have no idea.


End file.
